


Of Time and Caramel Lattes

by rosetylerism



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosetylerism/pseuds/rosetylerism
Summary: Rose was in absolutely no position to complain about her job.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing explicit happens in this chapter, the rating is preemptive.

Rose was in absolutely no place to complain about her job.

It wasn't too far from the Estate, it paid decently, and her coworkers were tolerable. She didn't have to pretend to be interested  in whatever posh clothes the department store was selling that she could never afford, or deal with the chavs at the chip shop desperate for an easy shag.

For the most part, Rose liked working in the coffee shop. Brewing and mixing lattes and cappuccinos made her time behind the counter fly. "After a while," all her coworkers said, "it'll be mind-numbing." And it was. But that's why she liked it. All she had to do was show up in her uniform, make whatever overpriced drink the hipster with the ironic beard or perfectly unstyled hair was ordering, throw in a few smiles and "thank yous," and she was done for the day. Mickey was able to visit (and bother) her on her break, and she knew that made him happy. Mum liked that she got discounts. Everyone was happy.

But, of course, it was work. And that made it boring.

 

Rose poured the steaming milk into the espresso, mixed it, topped it with whipped cream and ground cinnamon, and gave it to the woman who she assumed was named Ellen, as her name was written on the paper cup.

"Thank you," she said, flashing her wide-mouthed grin. "Enjoy!"

Ellen smiled in return and navigated her way out of the busy café. Rose tucked her hair behind her ears, prepared herself for the next customer, and sighed.

She looked up from the cash register to take the next order.

In front of her stood a man she had never seen before, an odd occurrence in a shop with several regular customers. The faint lines on his forehead and under his striking brown eyes and his suit indicated that he was a bit older than the usual student crowd. Despite the fact that he must have been almost twice her age, Rose had to admit that this tall, skinny, brunette stranger was quite an attractive one.

"Hello," she said, smiling. Was she smiling too much? Too late now, she was already talking to him. "What can I get for you today?"

The man crossed his arms and squinted slightly, reading the menu board above her head.

"Hi, I've never been here before and I can't say I'm familiar with your coffee selection. What do you suggest?" His eyes met hers and his lips formed a polite smile.

"Um..." Flustered, Rose looked down at her trainers and began playing with her hair again. "I quite like the medium roast." She looked up at him, smiling awkwardly.

"I'll have that, then!" His eyes widened and his face beamed almost maniacally, yet endearingly.

"Okay," Rose turned to the coffee bean grinder, then realization hit her. "Oh, what size do you want?" she asked while nervously biting her bottom lip.

"Large, please."

Rose nodded and reached for a cup.

All of her work experience seemed to have disappeared, because Rose could hardly remember which buttons to press.

_Head down. Don't look at him._

   She did.

He lifted his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth turned up.

Head back down.

Rose shifted herself over to the other side of the counter. She handed him his cup of coffee and he gave her a few quid in return.

"Here you go!"

The man's face lit up again. "Thank you," His eyes shifted down to her name tag. "Rose."

He swiftly turned around on his heels and headed towards an empty table. Rose's eyes followed.

Everything about him was fascinating; his suit, his impeccably groomed hair, even his peculiar white Converse trainers that look to be a number of years old. Rose watched as he opened up his laptop and began furiously typing away on the keyboard. She watched him sip his coffee and abruptly jerk his head backwards when he burnt his tongue. Rose rested her elbow on the counter and slumped her chin into her palm, observing his every motion.

"He's cute, isn't he?"

Startled, Rose gathered herself and stood up, her hands hidden behind her back. It was Martha.

"Err..." Rose stammered. "Yeah... Do you know him?"

Martha began putting her thick black hair into a ponytail.

"He's a professor at the university. History or something, I think. A few of my friends have him. I've seen him on campus a couple times. He's gorgeous!"

Rose's eyes widened. "Do you know his name?"

"Yeah," Martha said. "Doctor-" Her phone vibrates. Martha took out her mobile and looked at the screen, then smiled.

"Hold on," she said, unlocking the phone. "I have to take this. Cover for me, okay?" She walked into the breakroom.

"Wait," Rose said. "What's his-"

The door closed.

Rose let out a sigh of disappointment and returned to her work station. The man - doctor, doctor something - was still seated in his cozy little corner of the coffee shop, still typing whatever he was typing before, his eyes glaring intently at the illuminated computer screen.

_Back to reality._

A line of customers was beginning to form in front of her cash register. Rose had no choice but to resume working.

 

Rose looked at the clock behind her; 4:30 PM. Her shift was up. She grabbed her bag from the break room, put on her jacket, tied her scarf around her neck, and left the shop.

A gust of wind blew against her face, turning her cheeks a rosy pink. She shoved her hands into her trouser pockets to guard them from the cold November breeze.

Rose's mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of her mysterious doctor - _her_ doctor? When did he become _"her doctor?"_ \- the entire walk back to her flat.

_God, I acted like a complete idiot the entire time. He probably thinks I'm on crack or something._

_Maybe he'll be back tomorrow._

_I hope he's back tomorrow._

 

"Mum?" Rose said, entering the messy flat. She could smell the Chinese takeaway her mother picked up for supper.

"Oh, Rose! How was work today?"

Rose dropped her bag on the sofa and went into the kitchen where her mother was sitting at the table, eating some sort of prawn dish.

"Good, actually."

Her mother smiled sweetly. "Well, that's good to hear, love. I got you Szechuan chicken, I hope that's alright."

Rose nodded. "Yeah it's fine,"

She sat down at the table and started to eat.

 

"Oh, by the way," Jackie said a few minutes later with a mouth full of rice. "Mickey called for you this afternoon."

Rose's eyes rolled instinctively. "What'd he want?"

"I don't know, I didn't pick up. He left a voicemail. You can listen to it, if you'd like."

Rose put her fork down and went over to the phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Deleting it."

Jackie glared at her daughter. "He's a nice bloke, Rose, and he likes you a lot."

"Yeah, well maybe I don't like him, okay?"

This only angered her mother more. "Well, I don't see why not! He has a job and he's just so _sweet_ , Rose. And he's better than that Jimmy Stone you were seeing. I told you, he was nothing but trouble but you didn't listen..."

Rose sank back into her chair, picking at her already chipped nail polish. "Yes, Mum, I know. He was a prick. No need to rub it in..."

They continued their meal in silence.

 

Rose stepped out of the shower, slipped on her dressing gown, and starting combing her hair. _Need to touch up my roots. Better remind Mum to pick up a bleaching kit tomorrow._

Her entire life, Rose had been told she was pretty, but she didn't really feel like that was true. She wore tonnes of make-up and dyed her hair blonde. That's why she was pretty. And she certainly wasn't smart. She had got shite marks in school and dropped out before she could even get her A-levels, let alone go to uni. All because of Jimmy Stone.

Jimmy Stone. She had met him on the Tube when she was sixteen. Rose vividly remembered unbuttoning her blouse a few centimetres and hiking up her school kilt to impress him. He was 20, older and mysterious, not to mention how fit she thought he was. They started dating soon after. She lost her virginity to him.

If Rose had gotten her A-levels and gone on to uni, it probably would have been for music. She loved to sing; in the shower, when she was home alone, drunk at pubs with friends. And she had been told she was quite good at it. She could even play a bit of piano by ear and wrote her own songs when she was in secondary school. But Jimmy did nothing to encourage that.

 _People like us don't get A-levels,_ he told her. _And besides, you'd fail anyways. You can barely read._

That hurt. But Rose followed his lead. He was probably right.

Three months later, Rose caught him in bed with some stick-thin slag from Brighton. She broke things off right away.

And then came Mickey. Sweet, sweet Mickey. They had grown up together. He had been her best friend since primary school. In her fragile state, their relationship became more than platonic. But when Rose began to recover from her heartbreak, she lost all of her romantic feelings towards him. Mickey took it hard. He was still trying to win her back, but she didn't have the heart to tell him that she was done with him.

Now, at 19, Rose was nothing but a chav who worked at a coffee shop and lived with her mum.

 

Rose got into her bed and set her alarm for 6:15. She had to open up the shop tomorrow morning. Before turning off the light, Rose got her laptop off her bedside table and logged onto Facebook. She saw that Mickey was online.

She logged off, closed her laptop, flopped her head down on her pillow and went to sleep.

 

_beep. beep. Beep._

Morning came too fast.

Rose stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom to put on her uniform. After her hair was straightened and her face properly painted, she took a look at herself in the mirror with a more critical eye than usual. The green polo she had to wear was a bit frumpy. She adjusted her breasts to create more cleavage. That was a bit better. She changed into a push-up bra for some extra _oomph_ , as her mother so eloquently put it. Rose put on her favourite denim jacket, grabbed her purse, and left the flat as quietly as she could without waking Jackie.

Rose hated walking in London by herself in the dark. She had lived in the city her entire life, but it always made her uncomfortable. Luckily, the chavs were still asleep, so the streets were pretty quiet.

The coffee shop was only 4 blocks away. She got there in no time at all and unlocked the door.

Immediately, Rose began to think of the Doctor from yesterday. Maybe he'd come back today. He looked like he liked it there yesterday, that was good sign. Rose told herself that if he did, she would try her best to keep her cool.

Opening the shop was awful not only because she had to get up early, but because hardly anyone came before 7:30. Most of the customers were students at University of Westminster, and they were still fast asleep. A few businessmen would come in on their way to work, but it was pretty slow early in the morning.

The shop always had a playlist of indie music and jazz tunes playing, as coffee shops usually do. That was the only noise to keep her company.

The door opened.

It was him.

Should she say 'hello,' or wait until he gets to the counter? She decided to wait, but a smile crept across her face.

"Good morning!" she said cheerfully. _Dammit_.

"Oh, I remember you from yesterday!" he said. Rose could feel her ears burning under her hair. "Alright?"

"Yeah," she said. "You?"

"I'm good, thank you. I think I'll have a large medium roast with cream and sugar again, please."

"No problem," she said. His suit was blue today, but he was still wearing the same tan jacket. As soon as she knew he couldn't see him, she giggled behind the bean grinder silently.

"Here," She handed him the cup, he paid. "Enjoy!" Same thing she said yesterday. Would he notice?

"Thank you," he said. "Nobody here yet, hmm?"

"Yeah, the students don't start pouring in until the sun comes up."

He chuckled. It was almost melodic. "I might be back later. Maybe try a latte or something. See you later, Rose."

He remembered her name. She nearly died.

 

Sure enough, by 10:00, the shop was filled with twentysomethings with their laptops and heavy textbooks, discussing their academic pursuits and of course, gossiping. This was Rose's favourite time of the day. The coffee shop was so full of life. And she was busy.

Just as she was giving a soy cappuccino to a girl with a septum ring and a horse jumper, she noticed a familiar face in line.

It was Mickey. He knew she was about to go on break.

Rose tried to sneak into the break room with her caramel latte, but he saw her.

"Rose!" he said. She had no choice but to acknowledge him.

"Hey!" she replied, faking enthusiasm.

"Come sit down with me! You're on break, aren't you?"

She sighed. "Yup..."

 

"I called you last night and you never called me back. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

Rose crossed her arms defensively and suddenly became interested in an abstract painting on the other side of the room that she didn't quite understand.

"I, uh..." She tried to make eye contact with him. "I was busy last night. Yeah. Sorry."

Mickey furrowed his brow. "Rosie, you know I can always tell when you're lying." She winced. She hated being called 'Rosie.' She always thought it sounded  like a dog's name.

He continued. "We've known each other since we were kids. You can be honest with me."

"Mickey..." Rose tried to muster up the courage to tell him the truth. Mickey, we broke up two years ago.""

  He scowled, but with a hint of disappointment. "Rose, I like you a lot. I know, I was a bad boyfriend-"

"No shit!" she said, surprising herself with her assertive tone. "Our 'dates' consisted of you dragging me to the pub to watch a football match with your _stupid_ friends, get pissed, and then go back to your flat and have mediocre sex."

She couldn't believe she just said that.

Mickey stood up.

"You know what, Rose? Fine. But just remember, when the next arsehole dumps you, don't come crying to me."

"Mickey, wait-"

He stormed out of the shop.

Rose closed her eyes and dropped her face into her palms. She knew everyone in the shop was staring at her now.

 

If the Doctor was coming back that day, Rose would have to fix herself up. After that bout of crying and rubbing her eyes, her mascara was streaking down her face. She didn't want him to think she was any more of slut than she already looked. She vigorously tried to scrub off her running make-up and reapply it in the toilets.

"You look absolutely atrocious."

Martha again.

"What happened to you?"

Rose rummaged through her bag looking for her favourite pink lipstick. "Nothing," she wiped under her eyes with a piece of tissue. "Just... Broke up with Mickey."

Martha laughed. "That still doesn't explain why you're crying. You broke up with _him_."

Rose turned around to face her. "Yeah, I know, but..." She sniffed. "I've known him since I was seven. And he's really upset."

"Well, you always have Dr. Smith." Martha gave her a friendly pat on the back and left the room.

_Smith._

 

Half an hour later, Rose was back filling coffee orders. Instead of aimlessly making cups of coffee, she was completely aware of her surroundings. Every person who walked through the door was subject to her inspection. Any of them could be Dr. Smith.

Head down at the cash register.

"I'll have a caramel latte, please, Rose."

It was him.

Rose smiled. "It's you again! Coming right up."

She grabbed a cup. "What's your name, by the way?"

He adjusted his tie. "Hmm?"

"For the cup."

"Oh," He smiled. "John."

_Dr. John Smith._

After the drink was finished, Rose took her marker and wrote "John" in her big loopy handwriting.

"Here's your latte," she said bubbly.

He payed, thanked her, and went to sit down at the same table he occupied the day before.

 

Rose felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Bring this to him." Martha was holding a plate with a danish on it.

"What... Why?"

"Tell him we're having a promotion."

Rose's nose wrinkled. "But we're not having a promo-"

"Tell him we're having a promotion!" Martha insisted.

"No, I have work to do, Marth-"

The next thing Rose knew, the plate was in her hands and she was being pushed towards Dr. Smith's table.

"This might be the worst idea you've ever had, do you know that?"

Martha just giggled and scurried off.

"Hello again!" Rose forced herself to stand up straight.

Dr. Smith looked up from the beat-up book he was reading and took off his glasses - _Oh god, the glasses_. He smiled. "Nice to see you again, Rose!"

She cleared her throat. "Sorry to bother you, but, um... We're, um, having a promotion today... If you buy a caramel latte you get a free pastry, so..." She placed the danish on the table and glanced over her shoulder at Martha, who did nothing but wink at her.

"Oh," He looked at the pastry. "Thank you very much!"

 

Rose smiled and began walking back to scold Martha when she was stopped by her manager.

"Rose," Donna said. "That bloke that was in here for the interview the other day, you know, Gareth, the dim one? He got the job, so you can have the rest of the day off. We're training him."

Rose squinted slightly out of skepticism. "Are you sure you don't need me to help? I don't mind."

Donna shook her head. "We're fine. Enjoy your afternoon!"

 

"Leaving so soon?" Dr. Smith looked up at Rose, in her coat and carrying her pocketbook, ready to go back to the flat.

She smiled. "Yeah, my shift is up.?

"You can join me, if you'd like, assuming you don't have other plans."

Her stomach did a backflip. "That's so kind of you, but I don't want to intrude..."

"I insist!"

Rose pulled up the chair across from him, placing her bag on the floor.

He reached out a hand. "Dr. John Smith."

She shook it. "Rose Tyler."

"It's nice to finally meet you formally."

Rose blushed.

He leaned in closer. "Did one of your friends send you over here to bring me that danish? Which - by the way, was fantastic."

The blonde giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, there wasn't actually a promotion. She's a bit... abrasive."

He grinned. "Well, not to sound like a stalker, but I'm glad she did, because now I have an excuse to talk to you."

Rose's ears scorched. She tucked her hair behind her ears, staring down at the table.

"We can talk, if you want."

Rose tried to make eye contact with the older man. "I'm not that interesting, Dr. Smith..."

"'Dr. Smith?' You're not one of my students, please, call me John." He smiled again. Rose melted into her chair. "And I've never met someone who wasn't interesting in my life, Rose Tyler. Tell me about yourself."

She gulped. "Um... I'm Rose..." John's lips turned upwards. "I'm 19, I'm a barista, and..." She looked back at Martha. "I hate my friends!"

He chuckled.

"I suppose I should tell you about myself then. I'm John, I'm 35, I'm a history professor, and I think you should get new friends!"

Rose couldn't help but giggle.


End file.
